


birdwatcher

by neckwear



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Maes only shows up a lil bit, Romance, Royai - Freeform, Slightly - Freeform, same for christmas, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9781823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neckwear/pseuds/neckwear
Summary: AU - Riza really is his closest friend; they share inside jokes that went over Berthold’s head, he knows about what happened to her mother and she knows about his parents, they spend their alone time together when they can. He starts to think furiously about how to fix it and give her a stable life, when finally he realizes what he can do.“Well, I won’t need to be his apprentice anymore. You can come home with me.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> BIRDWATCHER - slang used by British Intelligence for a spy.

All at once, Berthold Hawkeye begun to teach his apprentice flame alchemy. He was frantic when teaching and forced him to have absolute attention on the matters at hand -- not a moment can be wasted, the chemistry and math is too important for his seventeen-year-old pupil to be distracted. 

Roy almost drowns in all the knowledge being shoved into his brain all at once. If he had been given time to properly learn it he is sure it would be far easier for him to understand the new, almost forbidden alchemy his teacher was bestowing on him. He tries his hardest, though, to absorb all the information, and at the end of each day he thinks his hand will fall off from the furious writing he has to deal with.

He does find solace, though. The daughter of his teacher brings him tea every night, they had become close friends over the course of the past few months since he’s been here. She has never really had a true friend before, so she treasures his company, and he enjoys talking to her because he has someone here who is closer to his age, which is a welcome thing. Riza feels sorry for him, and tries to make up for the way that her father is working him to the bone. Really, their daily tea break is the only break the either of them get. Roy studies even after her father lets him go, and his head is constantly swimming with alchemic equations and chemical compounds. Riza stays up late at night, unable to sleep because of flame alchemy as well. 

Roy is constantly learning and working until the day Berthold dies. He coughs up blood furiously -- he had been for weeks and months before, into his handkerchief while in the middle of teaching a lesson -- in his bed and Roy hears him and immediately runs to his master’s room. He holds him as he begins to topple out of his bed, struggling to keep him upright and from knocking him over. He hopes Riza can’t hear the commotion just as he hears her voice from the doorway.

“Roy…?”

He glances behind him and sees her holding onto the doorframe, staring with widened eyes at him holding her dead father in his arms, blood covering his shirt. 

Roy doesn’t know what to say. 

Berthold dies a week before Riza turns sixteen, on a hot and sticky night in the summer. They bury him and spend as little money as possible on it, after all only the two of them are in attendance. He realizes, while they’re standing at his grave, that he should ask her what’s to become of her life -- and when he does, she goes pale.

“I certainly can’t live alone,” she exhales. Her hands grip the edge of her coat. “I guess I’ll have to make do. He at least made sure I was educated, I could become a teacher or something like that in the future.”

She looks forlorn, and Roy hates to see her like this. Riza really is his closest friend; they share inside jokes that went over Berthold’s head, he knows about what happened to her mother and she knows about his parents, they spend their alone time together when they can. He starts to think furiously about how to fix it and give her a stable life, when finally he realizes what he can do.

“Well, I won’t need to be his apprentice anymore. You can come home with me.”

Riza looks at him in shock. “What?”

“My aunt wouldn’t mind at all. She doesn’t really care who you are or where you came from as long as you get along with her,” he says. “At the worst, she’d probably make you do chores to make up for living there, but my sisters are fun to do them with, and…”

Roy realizes that he’s blabbering on, so he stops himself to give Riza a chance to think. She’s looked away from him, down at the grave. “I’d hate to make her look after me. She must be a busy woman.” She hesitates for a moment, before exhaling a deep breath. “But...I don’t really have any other choice.”

When they finally leave the cemetery, he calls Madame Christmas and informs her on everything that’s going on, and she tells him that he didn’t even have to ask, that she would let Riza live with them so long as she earns her keep. He looks over at Riza, who seems skittish even if she smiles when he tells her the news. He thanks his aunt again and again and hangs up. Before Roy can say anything, Riza lets out a deep exhale.

“My father’s research...even if he’s dead, it isn’t all gone.”

Roy furrows his eyebrows. He knows she doesn’t know much about alchemy, so surely she couldn’t know what his research meant. However, though, she stands, and the absolute last thing he expects is her to unbutton her blouse and wrap it around her waist. 

Roy can’t believe his eyes.

There is a fascinating alchemic array tattoo in red ink on her back. He recognizes the middle symbol instantly -- the two triangles and the serpents are a sign of this being flame alchemy. Suddenly, it all comes together, that she was so tired in the mornings because she stayed up late letting her father tattoo his secrets on her back. He had heard of alchemists cleverly encrypting information in the form of cookbooks or using acronyms for their equations, but he had never seen something like this -- but this makes his blood boil.

“Riza…”

“He told me to give you the information if he died before he could. It’s all here, you just have to decipher it,” she tells him. She turns, she’s moved the shirt up to cover her chest. She can see how his hands are clenched, and she knows that if Berthold were alive now Roy would have already attacked him. She has to smooth things over. “I wanted to do it. I knew you were going to learn it, so I was okay with it.”

She doesn’t look scared or timid. Her resolve is incredible, Roy almost can’t handle everything he’s realizing all at once. Riza is more than just the first flame alchemist’s shy daughter; she is strength embodied, selfless and intelligent, because even with how estranged they were, Riza knew her father would want to immortalize his alchemy forever. However, his alchemy is dangerous, so Riza asks Roy for a favor.

“Flame alchemy is risky. I don’t want anyone but you using it. Promise me you’ll use it for good, and when you’ve finished…” she swallows now, closing her eyes tight. “Please burn the tattoo off of my back.”

Roy can feel his heart drop, but after his hesitation he agrees. Riza smiles, bittersweetly, and opens her eyes, looking straight at him. “Thank you.”

A month and a half later, they take a train to the capital. Riza has never left her little town before so the experience is exciting. Roy, though, even if he’s learned the alchemy he had always been striving for, feels a pang in his chest every time he glances at her. They leave for Central either way, him gifted with flame alchemy and her granted freedom from her father’s burden with a burnt back.

**\---**

Riza doesn’t fit in with his family right away, but it doesn’t take her long to. His sisters all adore her, especially Vanessa, who dotes over her and often offers to take her out to eat or suggests she would look nice with longer hair. Madame Christmas has never been one to be upfront with her feelings, but it’s undeniable that she sees Riza like one of her own, that she loves her like the other sisters. 

Riza insists on doing more chores than necessary to make up for living with them rent-free. Chris had said that she would have to in order to stay with them, but hadn’t told her to do as much as she was doing -- Riza claims, though, that she’s already well trained in doing household chores because of her father. Chris doesn’t complain, in fact she jokes that Riza is her favorite girl now, much to the other’s faux disdain. 

Her and Roy grow closer because of her living with them. The two of them spend most of their time together, when Riza isn’t doing her chores and when Roy is home from running errands. He makes sure that she is safe and comfortable -- he feels almost constant aches of grief because of what he did to her back, he wants to make up for it in whatever way he can. Really, though, he isn’t sure how. 

It doesn’t develop into more than just a close relationship, not yet. Despite that, Roy can’t deny that he looks forward to seeing her face every morning, and Riza spends her time while cooking wondering what he's up to when he’s out of the bar at another job. They won’t admit it to each other, but both teens feel their hearts swell and stomach flutter when they see the other -- it’s like the world stops when they’re together, and all they have to worry about are themselves, even if it’s just a normal conversation about what Riza is making for dinner. Neither know how to define it. 

All of his sisters make fun of them, say that they’ll get married when they grow old enough to realize that how they feel about each other is more than a platonic feeling. Riza always rolls her eyes, but Roy always falls victim to the teasing and blushes a deep crimson while his sisters laugh.

Riza, though, is confronted with the realization far before he is. Although Roy knew that he felt something deeper than friendship for her, he never identified what it was, mostly because he was too nervous to acknowledge it. Riza, however, realizes that she is in love with him on a winter day a few weeks after his eighteenth birthday. They were out running errands for Christmas, doing the grocery shopping for her, because she couldn’t be damned to step foot out in the cold. Roy is chatting with the florist whose shop they had decided to visit when it hits her. 

He only has a few more weeks until he goes off to the military academy. He had decided to join because, as he had told all his sisters and Riza and Christmas, he wants to help his country however he could, in whatever way he can. There is a nasty war brewing in the East, and he wants to help by becoming a soldier, to help defend against threats. It was ambitious for someone young like him, but they all supported him, and he had even saved up money to help pay for the academy. It didn’t take as much convincing as he had thought it would for his aunt to agree to send him off -- she jokes, dryly, that military school would finally get him out of her hair. His sisters all made up fantastic stories about Roy in the future, when he is the best general in Amestris, and tell him that he needs to remember to call and even write them while he’s away. Riza, though, gets a sickly feeling in her stomach when he announces his decision, but still plasters on a smile all the same. She isn’t against him going, but part of her is worried; she doesn’t realize this until now, when he is talking to the kindly florist, because she suddenly remembers that their daily life will change in a few weeks because of his decision to go and become a soldier. 

The world feels like it’s closing in on her. She has to look at the ground to regain her thoughts, until finally she reaches forward to tug lightly on the sleeve of his shirt. “We need to go home. It looks like it’s going to snow badly.”

The sky outside is clear and blue. However, after an apprehensive look, Roy buys the flowers that Christmas had asked for and follows Riza outside -- no, he rushes after her, because she is striding in front of him like she wants nothing more than to be rid of him. 

“Riza, wait!” he calls out, politely pushing through the crowd of people on the streets, and when she ends up stopping for him, he jogs up the street to catch up with her. She doesn’t turn around to look at him just yet, but she knows he’s looking at her like he does when he knows something’s up. She can see the face now, eyebrows furrowed and eyes full of concern. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

_No,_ she wants to say. _No, I’m not okay, because you’re going to leave and nothing’s going to be the same, and most of all I’m going to miss you, and --_

“I’m fine,” she says, but it sounds colder than she means it to. She stuffs her hands into her coat pockets and stares at the ground.

“No, you aren’t,” he counters. You’ve been acting weird lately. Less like yourself.”

The mere fact that he had been perceptive enough to make that connection could be enough to make her teenage self sigh and swoon, but she remembers that he’s grown up with women his whole life, so he is more in touch than other men are. She exhales raggedly, hesitates before she actually answers. “I’m worried about you.”

“Why? I’m fine.”

Riza sighs more aggressively now, slightly irritated. “Not about that kind of thing. But...” She turns finally to look him in the eye when she asks him her question. “Do you have to go?”

Her hair is windswept and her eyes are a deep brown that become even more endless when they’re filled with anxiety. Roy finds himself breathless for a moment while he looks at her. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” Riza says, not sounding annoyed but more like a bittersweet sort of somber, “Why do you want to join the military?”

Roy gives her a perplexed look, like the answer is obvious and she just can’t see it. “Because I want to help the country. You know that.”

Riza gives him a look, like she knows better than that. “That’s why everyone joins. You have to have another reason, right?”

Roy pauses, his face turning slightly red from nervousness or the biting cold wind, or both. Riza waits patiently for an answer. At last, he gives in, exhaling deeply. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know if it will satisfy you.”

“Just _tell_ me, Roy.”

He lets out a puff and she can see the air in the cold. “I want to protect you, and do good with my alchemy. And I don’t know how to do the second one by just being a normal citizen.”

Riza is left speechless. She understands the second part -- there isn’t much flame alchemy can do to help everyday people, and it’s a skill he should take to the national level. The first point, however, is debatable, and she feels taken aback when she finally puts it all together. “You don’t need to protect me. I can do it myself.”

“I know, but…” He places a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes tightly, probably so he doesn’t have to look at her as he says it. “I want to, because you’ve been through too much. You deserve a normal life and if I’m in the military, then I can get rid of threats that could hurt you and my family and people like you.”

Riza is struck with her revelation again. He is ever selfless and idealistic, he really has yet to be jaded by the world. She starts to think about their time together; when he brought her flowers just because he “had extra cash”, but she knows he wouldn’t have just wasted money on that; when he couldn’t finish burning her tattoo because he couldn’t bear to see her in pain; when he helped her with her chores so she wouldn’t feel overwhelmed; when he first saw her shoot a gun (she hunted when she lived with her father, because it was cheaper) and hit each animal she shot with perfect aim; when his eyes seemed to widen of their own volition and his mouth went agape when he first saw her in a fancy dress that his sisters had bought for her and insisted she try on. There are so many reasons, more than she can count, and she realizes all of this again and realizes at the same time that he must love her too, in his own way. 

She waits for him to open his eyes again and a soft smile has twitched across her face. 

“That’s very honorable,” she tells him. He flushes from embarrassment briefly before wiping it off with a smile. Her voice still sounds bittersweet, but he ignores it for now. 

“Do you think so?” He asks, and she nods. He blushes again. Unsure of what to say, Roy changes the subject. “We should probably get home, now. I don’t want her to wonder what is taking us so long.”

Riza agrees, and she joins him again by his side, deciding that she will enjoy the time she has with him now and worry about his being gone later, when it matters. For now, they make their way home, with a comfortable silence falling between them. For just a moment, though, she decides to break it.

“Just be safe, okay? Don’t die.”

“I’ll try my best.”

**\---**

Whenever Roy feels down in the Academy, like he got more than he bargained for, he gets a letter from Riza. It’s almost like she can read his mind, even from so far away.

In her letters (which are easier to write than for him to call, because if she isn’t home when he calls then she can’t call him back), she reveals that she decided to learn more about the espionage his sisters were so well trained in. She figured that, even if her father had made sure she was educated well when he was alive, there’s was nothing she really wanted to do involving education, or history, or language arts. She wants to help people, and she reasons that being a spy like the sisters would be her best option. They had supported her fully, even Madame Christmas chiming in with a, “It’d be a shame to let that aim of yours go to waste.”

Riza tells Roy that she is a natural at it. She’s only seventeen at this point so she hasn’t really gone on a mission, but all of their training is something she finds herself using in everyday life. If she does do a mission, it’s a joint one where she plays up the fact that she’s a teenage girl to convince men to meet the older sister, who takes it from there -- not surprisingly, she writes, the men in their twenties and thirties easily fall for the trick. She practices her shooting every day, improving with each shot she makes, and Christmas gives her a small but proud smirk when she hits the target each time with ease. 

At the Academy, Roy is undergoing his own training. The military is much more harrowing and difficult than he had bargained for, even if he knew that it wouldn’t be a cake walk. He writes Riza every day when he has downtime, and calls home when he’s allowed. He finds himself missing her more than he thought he would; he knew he would be homesick but when he thinks of home, his mind first floats over to her. Plenty of the men at the Academy brag to others about their girlfriends or even fianceés back home, and he wishes he could boast about Riza, about her intelligence and kindness and cleverness, about her brilliant golden hair and deep brown eyes. He realized too late that he loves her, and now he is paying the price.

One of the men who brags about his girl is Maes Hughes -- a man who doesn’t even have a girlfriend to begin with. He informs Roy that he’s in the military to fight for the women he’ll have in the _future_ and that this is the first step. Roy laughs at his ridiculousness, and the two of them laugh together while putting their rifles back into their lockers. 

Maes asks Roy one day during lunch if he has any one back home. Roy knows right away that he means any girlfriends. For some reason, plenty of the men here seem obsessed with other men’s love lives -- probably to make them feel inferior for not having one, or for not being with as many women as they should be. Roy finds it all ridiculous, but he knows Maes is genuinely curious, so Roy answers truthfully. At least, as truthfully as he can, because he knows Riza wouldn’t want him to call them something they’re not without her permission.

“Actually, my friend back home. Her name is Riza. We’re not really dating, but…”

“What do you mean, ‘we’re not really dating”?” Maes asks, incredulous. “I don’t mean to be a snoop, but I’ve seen that she writes you letters. Long ones too. You aren’t fooling me.”

He takes Roy by surprise, with his knowing look and smirk on his face. “Since when did you become an expert on her?”

“I’m not. Just stating the obvious.”

The rest of the day, and for weeks after, the small conversation haunts Roy. He is almost glad he didn’t tell her he loves her, not when he could be sent into war at any moment and die soon thereafter. It was the life of soldiers, at least those who were weak-willed; Roy decides not to be, for Riza and his family’s sake. 

There’s a war brewing in the East. The government took over Ishval and now the citizens of the small nation are trying to push back, protesting against the sudden invasion only to have their voices silenced. Riza hears about it from one of the military officials who frequents the bar, who never notices her so he talks openly to Christmas.

“There’s a war coming any day now,” he tells her, and Riza listens while she dries the dishes. “Word is that Bradley already waged it. The Ishvalans don’t stand a chance. You should pray that your nephew doesn’t get sent in. I’ve heard that he probably will, though; he’s at the top of his class.”

Riza hears this and she worries her lip, then suddenly sets the plate she had been drying down with a clatter to run upstairs to her room. She immediately sits at her desk and pulls out stationery, and begins writing furiously. She tells Roy what she’s heard, that he needs to be careful and prepared for anything that happens to him. She feels a twisting knot in the pit of her stomach, and she tries to brush it away but to no avail. She doesn’t want to imagine him coming home in a casket with the Amestrian flag draped over him. Even if he had told her he was willing to die for their country, she doesn’t want him to. She wants Roy to come home safe and sound.

When she seals the envelope, she ignores the tear that drops on the thick paper. 

The four years that he’s in the Academy pass unbearably slowly. He comes to visit when he has leave, but the few days to weeks he’s home don’t suffice, not for the two of them. Riza is finally an adult and is busy on her own small espionage missions, often not coming home until late at night or early that morning. Roy spends time out and about with Maes, or studying for the academy. They don’t get many moments alone and when they do, they’re fleeting; nothing more than a passing glance, a brush against each other, a few words exchanged here or there. They feel farther away than before, but in their letters they feel closer than ever. Roy never finds the right time to confess how he feels, and it bothers him every day he doesn’t tell her that he loves her. 

He finally decides that he’s done dancing around her when he graduates from the Academy. It isn’t fair to her and when he sees her sitting in the crowd at his graduation day, more reserved than the sisters surrounding her, he smiles at her and she returns the look on a smaller scale. When he gets to come home, after a victory dinner for actually staying with his goals, he wanders upstairs and to her room. She’s brushing her hair out of her bun and she’s changed into more comfortable pajamas, and he takes a moment to marvel at her, at the simple domesticity. Riza glances at him when she finally notices him, and while she doesn’t say anything he closes the door behind him so they can have privacy.

“Is something up?” she asks, setting her hair brush down. He steps closer to her. He hasn’t undressed himself and is still stuck in the clothes he’d been wearing all day, his new military blues. Riza notices that he fills out the uniform nicely; that when he went to hug her after graduation, she found herself staring at him a little too long. He looks like a man now, and the entire idea thrills her. However, he is still as awkward with women as any other boy. His hands are sweaty and suddenly he’s incredibly nervous.

Riza isn’t just a teenage girl anymore. Her birthday is two weeks away -- she has the disadvantage of being born in the summer, so for now she’s still only nineteen compared to his twenty-one. She’s a woman now, her body has changed and he can see it through her pajamas, the button up cotton shirt and pants don’t hide her hips or her chest. This is much more daunting that before. He’s never really flirted or even _been_ with a woman, and he wonders, even though he’s grown up around nothing but women, if they’re different from girls. But then, it’s Riza, and she hasn’t changed, but he feels like he’s missed so much. Finally, he finds it in him to speak.

“I wanted to tell you something. Something I’ve meant to tell you for the past four years.” It comes out sounding confident, even if he didn’t mean for it to. Riza still isn’t used to the new deep, rich quality of his voice since it’s dropped. She finds that she likes it.

“What is it?” she asks, her fingers absentmindedly twining into a lock of hair at her chest. She twirls the strands and he swallows deeply, he still isn’t used to her longer hair. She looks at him with curious eyes, and he gets a feeling that she knows what he’s going to say. 

It’s almost amazing how they don’t have to be poetic with each other, because just a few words say it all.

Even so, Roy says more than he needs to.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. I think I have been, ever since we met. But I was too stupid to realize it, and I feel awful for making you wonder, but now you know, and I…”

Riza presses a finger to his lips, the one she had been using to play with her hair. He looks down at her owlishly, and a small smile graces her lips. “You don’t have to say all that. I know.”

Roy is still gathering himself when she leans up to kiss him.

Her lips are warm and plush, and he wonders idly if she had prepared herself for this or if she was always this soft. He kisses her back after a moment, and she takes it upon herself to deepen the kiss, pressing her hands against his chest, pulling at his jacket. He matches her ferocity, moving to wrap his arms around her to pull her closer to him. When his hand begins to slip lower from her back, she stops, pulling back from him. Her face is different shades of pink and red, she is breathless and beautiful. She quirks an eyebrow at him and that’s all he needs. He lifts her up by her rear, eliciting a sharp gasp and then giggle from her, and sets her down on the bed as they begin to make up for four years.


	2. Chapter 2

There is a year left in the war when Roy is deployed to Ishval. He had been sponsored by a military General to become a State Alchemist shortly after his graduation, and after Bradley signs the order to send State Alchemists into the battlefield, Roy is sent away. 

Ishval is a barren, sandy, wasteland. Roy can imagine how it may have been exotic once, but all he can see for miles is a solemn brown desert. The cape they’re given to shade themselves does little to help him. The other men can shoot senselessly into a sandstorm but he can’t, he has to properly see the land in front of him to create flames -- if he sporadically lets them loose, he could hurt one of his men. While the more experienced soldiers say death is just a part of war, he won’t let his men die if he can help it.

Most of them die in the first two months.

Being a State Alchemist means he’s the equivalent of a Major, which means he can lead a group of soldiers into battle. Surprisingly, he’s clear-headed in times of stress. Even if his men all change frequently, he treats them all the same. He can’t afford to discriminate in a time like this.

Roy doesn’t want to kill people. The Ishvalans are innocent in his eyes. Even if he’s involved in the war, he doesn’t support it. He has to block out the cries of the citizens, the gunshots that rain over him. Soon enough, he learns to be detached when he blows a building full of them up in flames. It troubles him -- no, it haunts him, every part of his being is disgusted with what he’s doing with his powers. If it weren’t enough that what he was doing was wrong, he knows that Riza, the one who made him into who he is, wouldn’t approve of the senseless killing at all. He had promised her that he would only use his flames for good. He wants to apologize to her for breaking it. 

Roy gets letters from his family, but soon he stops writing back. He feels that he doesn't deserve their love or support -- especially Riza’s. He doesn’t want to bother them with the mess of a man he’s become. 

Oh, but he misses her. He misses her curls of golden hair, her bright laugh, the way she could make his heart skip a beat with something as simple as a smile. Her intelligence, her stubbornness, her kindness. Before he was shipped off, they finally succumbed to their feelings for each other, and had more than just a little fling; he actually had been crazy enough to think about a _future_ with her, living together, being married, having kids. He doesn’t deserve any of that though, he now realizes -- and he thinks it’s better to let her go, so she can move on and not worry about him. At the same time, he doesn’t want to break her heart.

One person he does find is Maes, a welcome face in the sea of soldiers. He is still amiable and friendly, clapping Roy on the shoulder when they run into each other. When they aren’t in battle, they’re difficult to separate -- a soldier can’t speak to one without the other being nearby. Really, having each other there brings a sort of comfort to the two men, which is fleeting in the unforgiving desert.

According to Maes, he finally found his girl, someone named Gracia, and he shoves pictures at Roy’s face whenever he can. Roy always gets tired of hearing about her, but he simply starts to ignore Maes until he asks what happened to Riza.

“What about her?” Roy asks, not eating the stew they’re given for dinner but twirling his spoon around, not wanting to broach the topic. He knows, though, that Maes will push it until he answers.

“Are you not friends anymore?” he counters. Roy hates how perceptive Maes is. “I don’t see you get any letters from her anymore.”

Roy shrugs, making up an answer for him. “We’ve grown apart.”

Maes gives him a quizzical look, but thankfully he lets the topic drop, changing it to the letter he got from Gracia that evening.

He does things he never wanted to so, never dreamed of doing. He saves plenty of men with the flames Riza had entrusted him with, but in turn kills guiltless Ishvalans, whose only crime is fighting for their country, something Roy understands. He wonders why he has even stuck here, why he didn’t just join his aunt’s espionage business and been a spy. It would have been an easier life, at least easier than the one he’s living. He finds himself in a pit of depression, soon he becomes deaf to the explosion of his fires and ignores the yelling and screams that encircle him. He only focuses on staying alive now, and when he has incredibly rare private time, plans on how he’ll make up for his sins.

While in Ishval, a new dream begins to form in Roy’s mind. At first, he was content to simply serve the military, doing whatever he can to protect his family. But, soon after he arrives in Ishval, it changes to a different aspiration. Now, he wants to rise in the ranks and become the Fuhrer so he can reform the government, fix the military and everything else in between. Ishval has altered him from a once idealistic boy into a determined man, and he is set on leaving Ishval alive, if only to change his country for the better, for everyone in Amestris, but particularly the ones he loves.

Roy decides that he is intent on returning home to his family, and to Riza.

**\---**

Riza stopped writing to him because he quit writing her. She assumes that he’s too busy to do so, but it still hurts when the mail gets brought in and there’s nothing from him in the pile. To be fair, Riza herself has become busier than ever. She finds that she’s a natural at being one of Christmas’s girls, that the men they’re trying to take down are easily attracted to her, so Chris assigns her to more missions. For most of them, she is a sniper watching over one of the other girls in case the man gets too carried away, in case he has to be restrained. She is the best girl Chris has for combat, and Riza likes that more than seducing grimy, usually elderly, men.

Plenty of the missions still plague her thoughts. There are many where she has to shoot more than just one man and his followers down, either from afar or up close, either way her aim is perfect. None of them has affected her as much as the one where she first killed someone, though.

Usually, she had only shot to injure -- in the leg, arm, foot, anywhere that successfully halted the criminal they were after. Christmas hadn’t asked Riza to kill anyone, not until she had no choice. Really, Riza wanted to get rid of the guy; he was the leader of a large prostitution ring, and she wanted to help save the girls from his abuse and she knew Chris would make sure they had some sort of home to go to. This time, though, Riza had to get rid of him herself. They had found out when he was leaving his headquarters-slash-bar, and stationed her in a tower facing it, so she was poised to shoot -- and Christmas had made it clear to shoot to kill. 

It all happened in a flash, it seemed; it was in the middle of the night when he left the building. Her finger shook only for a moment, until she finally got a good aim on him, and the trigger seemed to have pulled of its own accord.

The death, although justified, shook her to her core. Now, though, she pulls the trigger so easily, sometimes it frightens the other sisters. It becomes like second nature to her, something she can focus on, even if the toll follows her around like a ghost. 

She’s also been shot herself, but she never realizes it until much later, after one of the girls helps her leave, her arm thrown over the sister’s shoulders. Riza jokes that she has always had a high pain tolerance -- but it’s a dark inside joke that no one else understands. She knew that she would most likely have to kill people in this line of work, especially if she wanted to live, but all the deaths that she causes still permeate her thoughts, and she begins to have nightmares about all the people she’s killed more often than not. Even if she’s surrounded by women who support and care for her, she still feels haunted deep, deep down.

It feels like everything goes in slow motion when she isn’t on a mission. Everything is done with a trained precision in the bar, hardly anything changes there. Somehow, Riza always seems to be out when Roy is able to call home, which only happens once or twice; a sister will tell her that she said that Roy says hi, as if it comforts her. Even so, she appreciates it. 

The sisters all know that Riza and Roy had a deeper relationship than they let on before he left for the war. They had suspected it, and confirmed it when one sister heard the two of them alone in bed, rushing away quickly after to tell the others. Riza has never really been in a romantic relationship before, so she is more or less confused and concerned when Roy simply stops writing to her or talking to her all together, but tries to hide it deep down, hoping the girls don’t notice. Unfortunately, though, they all have a sixth sense and all corner her to talk to her about the situation.

“He was always an emotional boy,” the oldest, Catherine, says. “He probably stopped writing because he didn’t want to worry you. That doesn’t make it right, though, but that’s my guess.”

It doesn’t really bring Riza any sort of closure, but she still nods and smiles thinly.

The sisters urge her to start going out and seeing other people, in the event that he did lose interest. She tries her best, but she never finds that same spark, she never connects with any of them. Even if she has an odd one night stand here or there, it never amounts to anything. She wishes she could move on, but it is too difficult, especially when the wound is still fresh.

Vanessa is the one who brings in the newspaper. She comes into the bar in a hurried fashion, waving the paper in the air and catching the attention of all the other sisters there. Riza is behind the bar with Chris, and asks Vanessa what’s so important that she had to cause a scene. Vanessa gives a flushed smile.

“Roy-boy is on the front page!”

Everyone gathers around the newspaper, and Vanessa reads the headline out aloud: “Flame Alchemist Saves Another Squad of Soldiers” -- it’s a little lengthy to Riza, and it is misleading besides. The picture accompanied with it was taken by a brave reporter, of Roy using his fire to blow up an Ishvalan bunker and save the men who had been losing from death. 

Everyone sees the picture and they all look at Riza, who isn’t responding or commenting on the article. She doesn’t even read it. She knows that he killed innocent Ishvalans, and it makes her sick to her stomach. When she finally regains some sort of composure, she sighs heavily, and nods. “Excuse me,” she says, and calmly walks upstairs to her room, but each step feels like it takes an eon to make. 

There are two options that she can consider -- that he had done it out of necessity, and truly wanted to kill those Ishvalans, or he had been ordered to do it and felt a deep guilt doing it. Riza chooses to believe the second options, because there is no way, she believes, that he could do that of his complete free will. 

Riza wishes he would write and tell her which one was true. 

Ever since then, no one brings in newspapers, and if any mouthy military officers start to bring it up they are shut down immediately by Christmas, who says she doesn’t want politics stinking up her bar. Here, she told Riza a week or so after they saw the paper, was where people forgot their problems, and that includes her. The only time the war is brought up again is when the national news announces that the war is over, and to expect your soldiers home two days from then.

“I’ll pick him up,” Riza says. She’s come home again after he had called from Ishval for a last time, and Chris told her that he would probably be home around five in the evening the next day. She almost volunteers too quickly, but Chris doesn’t object -- less for her to worry about.

Riza goes to the market that day to buy food to make a dinner for him when he gets home, because she assumes he’s not had anything that actually tastes good in months. She says what she plans to tell him over and over in her mind. She knows he won’t come back the same way he left, because of the toll war took on many of the vets she had met in her line of work, so she tries to make it as gentle as possible. 

She leaves the next day early so she won’t be too swamped in the swarm of lovers and family members at the train station. The entire drive there, though, she feels a nervous anxiety in the pit of her stomach; she hasn’t seen Roy in nearly a year, she wonders if he was badly injured in the war or if he’s become a totally different person. All the possibilities frighten her, but she has to steel herself to make things right.

When she arrives at the train station, she has to close her eyes, take a deep breath, and gather herself before she can go in. Finally, after a long moment, she forces herself out of the car and into the station, not knowing if she’ll pick up the Roy she knew or an all new version of him.

Frankly, she has never been more terrified in her life.

**\---**

Gracia must have been waiting since early in the morning, because when Roy and Maes leave the train, she is right there, and Roy watches as she runs into Maes’ arms, tears of joy streaming down her face as he lifts her up into a hug.

Roy doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, and quietly dips out, walking towards the exit of the station. He stretches his hands and thinks over his plan, to go home and apologize to Riza, get on his hands and knees if he has to, he has it all organized and planned out until -- 

_”Roy!”_

Roy turns towards the noise, and immediately his eyes catch on her. She is wearing a floral print dress and has her hair up in a bun that reminds him of a bird’s tail. Riza sticks out amongst the sea of beige capes and blue uniforms. Her hand is stuck up the air, in case he didn’t see her, but then, he thinks that he would always find her before anyone else. 

Her eyebrows are furrowed, and all at once, the urge to run to her overcomes him; he takes long strides, until he quickens his pace and she meets him halfway, crashing into his firm chest and squeezing his torso tightly, letting him wrap his own arms around her.

Roy doesn’t know what to do anymore besides hold her close, as close as possible. He doesn’t deserve her concern but he won’t reject her this early. She deserves this, at least. He lets himself close his eyes for a brief moment before she pulls back from him, looking him in the eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d say her eyes were watery. Still, she was resolute. 

“Your aunt and sisters ended up being really busy tonight, but gave me the night off. You can come home with me.”

Roy assumes she has plans of her own. He nods, and tries to think of something charming to say, but for once words fail him. “I missed you.”

Really, he did. He can’t believe he is really standing here, holding Riza in his arms, alive and home safely. It all seems too surreal, and he realizes all at once that he missed her more than he can even describe.

“I missed you too,” she says, a small smile crossing her face. “We should probably go, though -- I don’t want to get caught in traffic. We can catch up at dinner.”

The drive home is silent. He can sense her disdain, her disappointment that he had ceased contact with her for nearly a year. If only he could _explain_ to her why he did it. But, in the car doesn’t seem like the right place or time, so he keeps his mouth shut as she drives the both of them to her home.

She lets him drop his bag off in the extra guest room in her small apartment, and he takes off his cape too with agonizing care, but he knew he couldn’t prolong the inevitable. He hangs up the coat, and returns to the kitchen and living room combo, where she is cutting vegetables on a chopping board. He thinks momentarily about how this could be a regular, domestic thing; him coming home to her cooking, kissing her on the cheek as she sets a plate down for him. She wasn’t made for that kind of life however, and he thinks he prefers it that way. For now, though, he anticipates his first real meal in months, and the conversation about to be had. She doesn’t turn to look at him, but her knife movements gradually begin to slow down. He’s lived with women long enough to know that he is about to be confronted -- and he deserves it.

“I’m not mad at you, Roy, but I want to know why you stopped writing me. Why you stopped talking to me for months.”

Her chopping has ceased and she is looking at him, her eyes demanding an answer from him. She gives him time to formulate a response, doesn’t groan and go back to chopping when he doesn’t answer right away. She wants his most sincere answer, and that scares him more than anything.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me,” he claims, which is true, but the answer sounds so lame. She gives him an incredulous look without probably meaning to. 

“You do realize that by stopping writing letters to me, I worried _more?”_ she asks, setting down the knife and turning from the counter to lean against it. Her voice is still gentle, though, not at all accusing. “I want a real answer. I know that’s not what it really is.”

Roy has to swallow once, twice, three times. She is grilling him and she deserves the proper answer, and he wants to give it to her, but it’s so hard to come off of his lips. Finally, he braces himself (somehow telling her the truth is as scary as any battle) and answers her, exhaling deeply. “I felt like I didn’t deserve you. I wanted you to forget about me and meet someone else and be happy with them. I killed so many people in Ishval, Riza,” he says, his voice cracking at the end. “So many innocent lives are gone, and I -- I didn’t want you to have to deal with my burden.”

Silence comes over the two of them, like a suffocating blanket. Her eyes have widened ever so slightly, and he has to sit down so he doesn’t crash to the floor. All at once, his guilt bubbles up and he can’t even look her in the eye. He has to stare at the table, analyzing the wood and trying to stay calm. He doesn’t want to unload on her and tell her about his time in Ishval just yet. Suddenly, Riza has appeared next to him and sits next to him, pressing two fingers under his chin and lifting his head so he will look at her. She isn’t angry or frightened or annoyed -- instead, she looks concerned, her eyes are full of worry and somehow that makes him feel worse than if she were frustrated at him. He doesn’t deserve her anxiety, and he wishes he knew what to say.

“I want to help, Roy. I can’t do that if you don’t let me in.”

Roy takes a deep breath before nodding. He can tell she wants to save it for later, because for now they have a dinner to eat, and she lingers for just a moment before standing, and leaning down to kiss his cheek from where he is sitting. He blinks and she walks from him, back to where she had started to prep their meal. 

Later that night, when Roy tries to take the guest room, she peeks out from her room and tells him that he can sleep in her room if he wants. She looks sincere, so after a moment of hesitation he agrees, because he knows that their previous conversation hasn’t ended yet.

He sits in her bed, feeling alien underneath her sheets and he waits until she emerges in an oversized shirt, and he realizes after a moment that it’s his own from the Academy, something he had left behind before he was deployed. Riza sits on the edge of the bed next to him, and he holds his breath, waiting for her to speak.

“If you want, please tell me about Ishval.”

After a beat of silence, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

That night, they don’t sleep until early morning. He tells her everything that happened, everything that he should have told her through letters and phone calls. He tells her how he didn’t want to kill the people they told him to kill, that he had sincerely thought he wouldn’t have to kill as much and as frequently as he did. He tells her how haunted he is by it all, how the most sleep he ever got there was four hours, because if he closed his eyes he saw one explosion or terrified face after another, and he was always busy. He tells her, finally, that he’s sorry if he isn’t who he was before; that he understands if she wants to find someone else.

Riza listens intently, holding his hands through it, because she knows how terrifying it can be to recall something traumatic, especially something like war. She doesn’t cry, but at some point during it all he lets his defenses down and he ends up having to talk through his sobs. He feels terribly emasculated but Riza doesn’t judge, doesn’t mock him for showing emotion. When he is finished, and she hears his last proposal, she places her hand on his cheek and looks him in the eyes. His tears have stopped falling and now his eyes are just watery, and she is a blurred image in front of him.

“We’ve both changed since you’ve been gone, Roy,” she reassures him, her thumb wiping away a rebellious tear. “You may have done unthinkable things in Ishval, but I know and trust you’re still a good man, and that you want to change things. And I still love you.”

Roy lets himself crack a tiny smile, not a confident or cocky grin, but one of relief, and he reaches his hand up to hold hers. “You’re too good for me.”

“Don’t talk like that. You won’t get anywhere thinking that way,” she scolds, in her compassionate way. 

“I’m so sorry, Riza. I should have written you instead of stopping, and made sure to call when I could, I should have…”

Her other hand comes to his other cheek and she smiles at him for just a moment, before leaning forward to kiss him. It’s a somewhat quick kiss, he doesn’t have time to close his eyes before she lets go. She reaches up to pull him into a hug, her arms trying to wrap around his whole torso, but he has become more solid and broad since they had last seen each other. 

Either way, she buries her face into his shoulder, fitting perfectly into the crook of his neck, and her warmth and familiarity must do him in, because after a moment, Roy begins to cry again, finally digging out all the emotions he had buried deep inside him.

**\---**

Roy is transferred to Eastern Command, placed under the command of General Grumman and he easily climbs his way up the social ladder in the military. Grumman urges him to take a break for once, so Roy decides to take leave to go to Central. Riza insists on him staying with her, and after a night of reconnection and relearning each other’s bodies, he tells her one of his deepest thoughts.

"A woman like you deserves more than this,” he says idly in bed, while his fingers are tracing up and down her spine, across the burn marks and red, raised ink that the silky nightgown she wears refuses to hide. Riza shifts next to him, looking him in the eye.

“Maybe so. But I want to do this. At least, for now.”

They are both stubborn. He won’t argue with her about quitting being a spy, but he does promise her that when he becomes Fuhrer, he’ll make sure she has the most comfortable life imaginable.

“ _That’s_ what you deserve. Not living in a small apartment, but living in the Fuhrer’s mansion, in a soft, comfortable bed and safe and all the best things money can buy,” he says, almost flushing at his idea.

Riza doesn’t laugh at him, or roll her eyes. Instead, she asks, “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”

He nods. He feels relieved that she hadn’t mocked his dream. “I intend on it happening, too.”

She pauses for just a moment, searching for something in his eyes, and he hopes that whatever she is looking for in him is something he has. Finally, she speaks. 

“Then I’ll help you get to the top however I can. A big king-sized bed and tub doesn’t sound half bad.”

He knows she would help him no matter what. He had told her he wanted to be Fuhrer for a long time now, and she had supported him. Now, though, he has already been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, he is rising faster than anyone had thought and he needs her support more than ever. He can get to the top, but he knows he can’t do it without her. 

He grins, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear as she closes her eyes contently. “You’re amazing.”

She smiles to herself. 

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! I've read this chapter over and over again, and i'm happy with it. I hope all of you are too, and that you all enjoy it!
> 
> I'm thinking of actually adding oneshots about her time as a spy, but i'm not really sure how to. oops.


	3. Chapter 3

Riza asks Chris to let her become friendly with the military officers who frequent her bar. She wants to have something of a monopoly on them, at least the generals. Chris doesn’t argue, in fact she tells Riza that she didn’t even have to ask. She knows why she wants to do it and she can’t dock her for being just a little bit biased and arguably corrupt, because she’s doing it for the better good, and because Chris herself is guilty of doing a lot worse. 

The generals, thankfully, all immediately fall for Riza’s facade. She really thinks all of them are slimy, mostly sexist men, and she almost always wants to cringe when one of them hits on her in more than just a playful way -- all of them are older men, old enough to be her grandfather. But, she doesn’t complain, because she had agreed to do this. In fact, it was her idea.

She had told Roy that she would try to get any and all information she could from the officers by giving them alcohol, loosening their lips and being just flirty enough for them to spill their secrets. She had mastered the art, really. She is talented in being coercive, and plenty of men gravitate towards her at the bar, because she is the youngest girl there in just her mid-twenties. Roy had been uncomfortable with it at first, because he worried that one of them would take advantage of her or maybe even something worse, but Riza had been resolute. She had the best eye when it came to shooting, and she knew how to attack a man with her hands if he tried anything unseemly, what angle to stick her fingers into his throat or eyes. So, with hesitation, Roy had agreed that that would probably be their best option.

Usually, the generals have nothing new to say. She learns a lot about them though; how a surprising amount of them have failing marriages, or how they cheated on their wives, or why they don’t like other officers that she is friendly with. When they do have something interesting to say, though, she makes sure to take a mental note, to write it down in the code her and Roy had developed for this purpose, so she could call him wherever and whenever without anyone suspecting them, because she knew military lines could be tapped.

She writes it out before she calls him, or writes it all down in a letter. Riza gets across top secret information by recounting days that never happened to her. She tells him about her friends who don’t exist, how they went out for lunch and went shopping, when really she spent the day helping to take down a prostitution ring or catch a mob boss (the women of Madame Christmas are incredibly versatile). She creates a facade for herself, where she is a socialite with expensive tastes, and her name is Elizabeth. All of this is absolutely false, which is why it works -- no one would suspect her of being overly polite or manipulative, because she is merely a social butterfly who likes good company and even better drinks. It helps that Roy buys her expensive gifts, even if she tells him each time to stop, but he never does. His reasoning is that it “solidifies her cover.”

Whenever she calls, Roy acts overly flirtatious and cocky, which Riza jokes is a bad cover because it’s not too far from the truth. The subordinates whom he had picked to serve under him are subjected to listening to their flirtation, and they all begin to think that he’s merely showing off, and doesn’t truly have a girlfriend. Roy’s claim is that it works well, because all they suspect him of is lying about his girlfriend, which he isn’t.

After the war, when he had come home, their time was cut short when he was stationed in Eastern just a month or so after coming home. Even so, in that time, their relationship grew into something more mature and adult. Riza pushed him to talk openly about his problems, and he did the same for her -- she, too, openly cried to him about her first kill, or one that especially haunted her, and he had held her and let her get it all out like she had done for him. Roy showed her how to have a little bit of fun every once in awhile by taking her dancing, she showed him the benefits of staying in and just being close to each other; they put full faith and trust in each other, both of them became devotedly loyal to the other even if they were separated. Riza teases that their relationship is built on equivalent exchange, and Roy always has to laugh.

Sometimes, their fake conversations over the phone turned into real ones, he would tell her how much he missed her and she would, in turn, ask when his next opportunity for leave was. Her best friend, Rebecca, whom she had met because she frequented the bar in order to find some proper marriage material, warned Riza that long distance relationships never work. “It’s not that I don’t support you, but I don’t want you to get hurt.” Riza always promised she wouldn’t. What she doesn’t tell her friend is that their entire relationship has always _been_ long distance -- it’s nothing new to them.

They live on borrowed time for a few years. All of their meetings were when he was on leave, or, if she had to be there for a mission or just for a vacation Chris told her to take, she would come to his office to directly talk to him, to stay with him for a few days. The first time she had, he had told her he wanted them to all work together on intel missions, along with his own cover for the five of them, that they were all sisters and she was the eldest, and they all ran a convenience store. His subordinates had been thoroughly surprised to find that this Elizabeth was real as she leaned over the desk to kiss Roy -- and, after a while, surprised that she was so handy with a gun, and that she was a near-perfect spy. One of his soldiers, Jean, had joked that she would put him out of a job before too long.

Their rendezvous were always too fleeting, they could never get enough of each other and it was like they were teenagers, excited and passionate. They had to get as much of each other as they could, because their schedules were tight and never knew when they could meet again. It always made leaving the hardest part; they would share goodbye kisses for a few prolonged moments, until Riza forced them to break apart. The pain left after a day or two for Riza, but Roy had always felt strongly, and his forlornness was no exception. 

This was why his calling her that he was going to be transferred to Central was a big deal for the both of them.

“Do you know when?” Riza asks, holding the phone close to her ear like a giddy teenager.

“I’m not quite sure yet. Soon, though,” he answers, and she can almost see the genuine smile on his face as he talked to her. 

Riza constantly waits with baited breath from that moment before he returned. His sisters and aunt claim not to know when he would be coming back, so she has to hope each and every day that he would call her from the train station for her to pick him up.

She walks into the bar on a Saturday evening, and she calls out a greeting, starting to ask Chris about a target as she begins to remove her coat to hang on the rack before glancing up, and seeing Roy sitting at the end bar seat with a drink in hand, with Chris behind the bar smiling knowingly as she rinses out a cup with an old rag.

Riza’s coat is forgotten, dropped on the floor of the bar as she walks towards Roy. He meets her halfway, nearly leaping up from his seat and he wraps his arms around her as she practically jumps into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck and the power of the collision threatening to knock him over. He laughs, and she holds him tighter, nuzzles her face into his shoulder until she decides to pull back and grab his face and kiss him, once, twice, they lose count as the kisses grow deeper. She’s the one who breaks apart though, too excited to not talk to him. “How long have you been back?”

“Since this morning.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

She’s scolding him now, and he laughs again, the genuine, good natured one she has grown to love. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Riza gives him an incredulous look, but she doesn't want to bring down the mood by complaining -- besides, even if she doesn’t like surprises, this was the best she could imagine. She leans up to kiss him again, and Chris has to cough to get their attention after the kisses grew too sensual.

“I’d prefer if you two handled that in private,” Christmas said, but she still had a smile on her face. 

Riza helps Roy move into his new quarters, it’s a small apartment that is barren so far except for a couch, and boxes are haphazardly spread around the room. She had insisted on helping, because she knew that if it were up to him, he would simply rummage through the boxes and never truly unpack. After they’ve finished (with much trial and tribulation) setting up his bed, she throws on one of his old shirts and climbs into bed with him, and he wraps an arm around her waist, soaking in the domesticity, but he remembers after a moment that he forgot to ask her something.

“Do you remember the Elric brothers?” he asks, glancing down at her. Her eyes are closed, her hand splayed against his chest and she has never looked more comfortable. She nods, so he continues. “They’re being transferred here too, and they’re coming after they finish up some business elsewhere...and they need somewhere to live.”

Riza’s eyes shoot open at this. She leans up, hovering over him as she processed his request. “Are you asking if they can live with me?”

He flushes sheepishly, knowing that he should have called and asked if it was alright beforehand, instead of springing it on her like this. “Maybe.”

Riza simple stares at him, before groaning and laying back down, exhaling against him. “I suppose they can, if they have nowhere else to go,” she says. “But I wish you would have told me beforehand.”

“I know, I know,” he says, he knows that he is in the wrong. “I’m sorry. I was too excited with the thought of living closer to you that it slipped my mind.”

She rolls her eyes, but there's still a small grin on her face before she begins to doze off. “Smooth.” 

“I try.”

**\---**

Riza attends Maes’ funeral. She had known him, Roy had introduced the two of them after Maes and Gracia had their first daughter, and he immediately had an amiable quality to him, and she always felt comfortable in his presence, even if he did brag too much about his family at times. He didn’t deserve to die the way he did, and especially so young.

She helps Roy pick up the pieces. There are plenty of nights where she has to call him at work because she knows he’s not come home yet, or is taking on more work than he can physically and mentally handle while trying to find Maes’ killer. She holds him when he finally breaks down and cries one late night, when he has finally accepted that his best friend is gone in the middle of the night. She makes sure he gets back up on his feet afterwards, she is the one who insists that he doesn’t let himself fall into a slump, that this is all the more reason to work harder towards his goal, because it’s what Maes would have wanted. Roy becomes a changed man almost overnight -- he doesn’t completely become alright (but then, it would be difficult for him to), but he is determined and serious and now Riza is working overtime, determined herself to find any clues or intel she can to who killed Maes Hughes.

Even if she worries about his mental state, her own takes a backseat to her work. She hardly ever sleeps, she works herself to the bone trying to find out something -- _anything_ \-- about how Maes was murdered. She comes home late most nights, and the brothers that she is housing are usually out late too, getting into some kind of trouble and coming home at early hours of the morning. 

She always makes sure to have a small meal for Ed, the eldest, even when he isn’t home. She knows that he is much like her, valiant until he gets the job done, driven by trying to redefine himself from his past. She becomes attached to the boys, and it becomes maternal as time goes on. Roy often asks how she can even deal with them, especially Ed, but they never trouble her, in fact they both respect her deeply, and she returns it. She doesn’t try to treat them like children, not if she can help it; they’ve already seen enough hell to last a lifetime. 

Riza begins to work more closely with Roy’s carefully assembled team of soldiers. They are all powerful and valuable in their own rights, and hers was her sharpshooting skills and espionage experience. They had all worked to make it seem like Maria Ross had been the killer, even though they all knew she wasn’t -- they had to get rid of her so no one would come after her, so they could get this case out of the public eye so they could continue their own investigation. Riza spent a lot of her time sitting at the top of the empty tower, the dog that Alphonse had snuck into his armor and into her home sitting with Fuery, who listened to her and Roy’s fake flirtation. It wasn’t _really_ fake, but everything was carefully encoded and the cover of the five of them besides Roy running a small store was a secure one. Riza was almost glad she was alone in the tower -- even if she spent her time peering through a sniper scope, ready for any attack, she sometimes caught herself blushing at his attempts at flirting, answering back with a wittiness only he could match. 

Somewhere along the way, they find themselves facing the homunculus Lust, who had told Riza that she was planning to send her off with her “man”, and Riza had shot until she ran out of bullets, even if it seemed like they would last forever. Thankfully, Roy had found a way to survive and kill the monster, but he sustained a serious second to third degree burn, collapsing after his battle. Riza worried about him day and night when he was in the hospital, and it affects her work. The sisters all notice, and they all speak with Chris to let Riza have time off, to sort out her feelings and take care of Roy. Chris had agreed -- Riza couldn’t work at her full potential if she wasn’t in the right mindset. So the girls took over her shifts and missions for a week or two, all while Riza stayed with Roy in the hospital. He was all too eager to leave, and when he had asked for his uniform -- no, ordered her to get his uniform -- she had to say no.

“You aren’t in the proper condition. Do you want to reopen your wound? If you aren’t careful, you’ll --”

“End up like Hughes, I know,” he cuts her off. The response seems morbid, as if he was talking about someone he had hardly known had died rather than his best friend. But, it could be a good sign, she thinks; he is nearly past his grief. “But I have business I have to take care of.”

“I’m not giving you your uniform.”

“Riza --”

“No.”

Roy gives her a _look,_ one that irritates her, because her man is just as bullheaded as her, but he stands anyways and begins to walk away, in the direction where his uniform is, and she doesn’t have it in her to stop him.

Work becomes more intense now. She hardly ever gets time off, because she is dedicated to the cause, to exposing the corrupt government ruling over Amestris and the strange monsters at the center of it. She wonders if it’s really worth it a lot of times -- if she should be risking her life for something that feels like it will never truly succeed. The Elrics are still stubborn as ever, and when she peeks in on them in their shared bedroom sleeping, seeing how they haven’t given up despite the odds, she suddenly find it in her to keep fighting; if two teenage boys can keep going, she has no excuse to give up. 

After rescuing the Xingese prince, fighting the homunculus Gluttony, and leaving the boys to fight the monster, they have to make a pit stop. She loads her guns while listening to Roy tell his friend, Dr. Knox, why he can’t just sit idly by while teenage boys fight for them, why he has to go to Central Command to find answers. After they get into the car, before he even turns the car on, she takes the chance to lean over in her seat and kiss him, taking his face in her hands before pulling away. He gives her a perplexed look, which lasts until she clarifies; “For good luck. You’ll need it.”

The look is still on his face, until he gives her a reassuring smile. “Don’t wait for me. Go to the bar, tell my aunt that everything is okay.” He pauses, suddenly becoming sober. “And if the Elrics show up any time soon, call me.”

“Be safe.”

“I will. I promise.”

**\---**

“Hello?”

“Roy, we need to talk. Now. Off the phone.”

It was two in the morning, but Roy knew that it was something important if she got to the point that quickly. He asks her to give him thirty minutes so he can get dressed and look presentable, and he shows up at time outside her apartment door, looking slightly disheveled from being asleep moments before. He’s brought paper mixed with documents so that, in case she says anything, he can write it down and translate it later. She’s still in her day clothes, he had seen her earlier in the day and she is wearing the same clothes, but she looks more frazzled and frantic than before. Her hair is down around her shoulders and his anxiety is hiked up.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking off his coat after she let him in, bending down to pet Hayate behind the ears. She fiddles with the coffee pot, pouring two cups and making his brew, she has it memorized like it’s her own. She glances at him for a moment before turning back to the coffee.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, stirring sugar into her own coffee. “I just had the craziest day. I needed to tell you off the phone.”

He knows that she’s going to tell him a story about the sisters or a man she met, but he knows also that it won’t be as simple as that. He raises his eyebrows, moving closer to her. “Oh? And it was so important you had to tell me in person?”

Riza nods, and he sighs, clicking his pen and not glancing up when she sets his coffee down. “I hope you don’t mind if I work and listen.”

“Not at all,” she assures him, sitting next to him, looking at him and beginning her story.

Later that evening, when she is sound asleep in bed, he sits up with the lamp on deciphering her conversation. She had mentioned fake people, Sally, Emma, Lucy...he figures out what the message says, and it takes him aback when he figures it out. 

_Selim Bradley is Homunculus_

He stares at it for a few moments, blinks once, twice, before Riza moves to place her hand on his arm, tugs at him. “Come to bed, Roy,” she says, her voice tinged with sleep, and he relents and burns up the paper before turning out the light and falling into bed with her. 

Apparently, she tells him later in hushed tones as they both dress for the day, she had been confronted by a Homunculus called Pride. It was while she was walking Hayate, who had sensed it at the same time she did -- it took the form of the son of the Fuhrer, with shadows adorned with eyes surrounding his figure. He told her who he was, and that if she isn’t careful, he’ll have to keep an eye on her; but, for now, he let her off with a warning, and she rushed home as quickly as possible to call him. 

It’s jarring in itself, to hear that she had somehow failed in being secretive even if it was her strongest trait; it doesn’t help that, days before, the rest of his team had been ripped from his control, stationed to completely different directions. It gives him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“You need to stay out of this,” he tells her, but she shakes her head immediately as she brushes her hair. 

“No. I need to help you now more than ever.”

“Listen to me,” he stresses, stops buttoning his shirt so he can face her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t want you getting hurt --”

“And I don’t want _you_ getting hurt, Roy.” Her eyes are steady, but he knows that through her facade she is angry at him. “You may be stubborn about it, but I’m not just going to stand by when I can do something about it.”

“You’ve done enough by just telling me,” he responds, but he watches helplessly as she pulls away from him. He thinks about Maes, how he had been so determined to tell Roy about the Homunculus that had killed him, and he fears that she’ll end up the same way Hughes did. 

Riza seems to understand. She starts to pull her hair up into her bun, hastily, as if she is pressed for time and is running late. “I know you’re worried, but I’m going to find information on Selim Bradley, and I’m starting today.” She glances up at him. “I knew the risks when I agreed to help you.”

He is astounded. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve her devotion, what god above he pleased to earn her love, selfless just like his. Instead of arguing any more, he nods. 

He leaves before she does, with her kiss on his lips and an “I love you” before he walks out her door. She tells him to come by the bar in a week, and he does after work a week later. His aunt is behind the bar, and after he greets Vanessa, she gives him a look up and down. “You better be thankful for her,” is all she says, and Riza appears from the back with a few documents in her hands, sliding them across the bar to him. She debriefs him on all the information she found, that in all these years, he has never aged, but has appeared in different points of history. He asks how she was able to collect all this information, but she simply presses a finger to her lips for a moment, leaning forward against the bar on her elbows. “All I can say is, things are about to become more serious. Be careful.”

Roy heeds her warning, takes it to heart. He begins preparing himself and his men for the fateful day where everything will change, the day she warns him about because it is inevitable.

**\---**

The Promised Day takes a toll on everyone, but it hits Roy and Riza harder than many of the others. He is blinded after forcibly committing human transmutation, her throat is slit as an unsuccessful bargaining tool to get him to voluntarily do it. The other sisters and Christmas had left for Xing, to protect themselves, but Riza had been insistent on helping him on the Promised Day; she wouldn’t hear any objections he might have had about it. They had gotten this far, and she wasn’t going to back down now. He doesn’t argue with her. 

Luckily, both of them survive, but he remains blind before Dr. Marcoh can come to Central, with his Philosopher’s Stone. After he asks to heal Jean first, and after much debate with Riza, Roy decides to use it on himself. Her reasoning is that Marcoh wants to use something that killed innocent Ishvalans on Roy because he is dedicated to rebuilding Ishval -- he wants his evil to result in something good. Even after all these years, she still makes things fall into place in a way that makes sense. 

The first face he sees when he regains his sight is Riza sitting next to him, staring at him with concern etched across her face, concern that he feels that he doesn’t deserve. Her face breaks out into a smile, and he realizes he had almost forgotten what she had looked like. “Hello,” she says, her smile growing smaller but still beautiful even so. She reaches down to grab his hand and squeeze it, his vision is blurry and the pressure reminds him that this isn’t a dream.

His men around him are talking, telling him congratulations, but he only cares about the woman in front of him, even if his vision of her is blurry. “How’s your vision?” she asks.

“It’s blurry. But I suppose it’s better than being blind,” he tells her. She nods, and he can see well enough that the tears that run down her cheeks are easy to spot. He reaches a free hand up to her face, to wipe them away. The men seem to take note and they all realize that they should leave them alone for a moment; they shuffle out of the room quietly while her tears keep falling. “Are you okay?”

She nods, laughing through her tears. “I’m just happy that you can see,” she says. “And that you’re even alive.”

Her thumb traces over the raised pink scar on his hand, something she did when he was blind to let him know she was here, that he was alive. “Don’t cry,” is all that he can think to say, like he’s an awkward teenager again.

Suddenly, everything hits him all at once. He thinks of how they met, when she was so demure and introverted but not truly shy, at least not shy enough to not ask him to deface her back; how he had always been a late bloomer when it came to love, but always was more outwardly passionate than her about his revelations; how he had hurt her when he stopped writing to her during the war, because he thinks he is an unlovable murderer, and while the latter may be true, she loves him anyways; and where they are now, him wielded with her father’s alchemy and her devotion, while she receives unconditional love and a man she can believe in in return, and suddenly he wants to apologize for everything bad he has ever done to her. “Riza, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” she asks. She looks so confused, as if she doesn’t know what he has to be apologizing for. 

“For hurting you over and over...for burning your back, for making you wonder if I loved you back, for stopping writing to you, for getting you into this entire mess, for...for…” 

His words are spoken so quietly she has to listen carefully to hear him. She shakes her head, and finally her tears cease. “We’re in this together. We always have been. Have you ever known me to be someone who gives up something I love when times get too difficult? I chose to be in this entire mess, to be with _you._ You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay.”

Roy stares back at her with wide eyes, and he knows his eyes aren’t blurred from bad vision when he feels hot water spring from his eyes. He sits up, aggravating every bone in his body, and it’s like she knows his every move; she catches him in her arms, he buries his face in the crook of her neck and sobs. It’s like he’s getting out every frustration from the past decade and a half they’ve known each other, and she holds him as tightly as she can while crying with him.

The men don’t come back. The nurses don’t come by either -- the couple suspects the team had warned them not to come by the room. The next time a nurse makes her rotation, though, she only peeks in for a moment. Roy and Riza are asleep together, her curled into his hold, on his bed. She doesn’t wake either of them; instead, she turns out the light, and closes the door gently. Riza stirs for a second, recognizing the noise, before Roy’s hand tightens on her hip in his sleep, nudging her back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is the last chapter of the general au...if you guys would like to see some other fics associated with this, please tell me so i can get some ideas! I really love this au, and i wanna expand on it more. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> hello!
> 
> this fic took me like ten years to write, lol! i've read it over and over a million times, so this is the best version. I hope you all enjoy it! I have two more chapters, and then if i am inspired, i'll write oneshots for it. Thank you for reading!


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